


Nobody Wins

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Series: Spotify Songfic Challenge [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Based on a song, But not a songfic, Episode: s02e13 Voyage of Temptation, F/M, Implied Future Sexual Content, One-Shot, Spotify Song Challenge, reflections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: The rest of the ship was quiet with the hush that came with a slightly restless sleep. She doubted Skywalker was truly asleep, but she had not seem him since the resolutions following Merrick’s death. She hadn’t seen much of anyone, to be fair; her advisory council had been relieved and slightly sickened and Obi-Wan…She saw him now. The back of him at least, looking out of the holo-deck as they passed through hyperspace. His arms were crossed, she could tell from his posture, and a slight shifting of him as he undoubtedly sensed her presence revealed a glass of some sort of fluorescent blue liquor from one of the glittering bottles behind the adjacent bar.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Series: Spotify Songfic Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038213
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	Nobody Wins

**Author's Note:**

> Third Request for the Spotify Song Challenge, this one for Obitine! :D 
> 
> Song is Nobody Wins by Brian Fallon; its sad sh*t but this is less sad and more...contemplative? 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy :) Please R and R, let me know what you think! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at the same name

The rest of the ship was quiet with the hush that came with a slightly restless sleep. She doubted Skywalker was truly asleep, but she had not seem him since the resolutions following Merrick’s death. She hadn’t seen much of anyone, to be fair; her advisory council had been relieved and slightly sickened and Obi-Wan…

She saw him now. The back of him at least, looking out of the holo-deck as they passed through hyperspace. His arms were crossed, she could tell from his posture, and a slight shifting of him as he undoubtedly sensed her presence revealed a glass of some sort of fluorescent blue liquor from one of the glittering bottles behind the adjacent bar.

“I hope you don’t mind,” He said, waving the cup where the two, almost melted cubes of ice clinked against the sides of the glass.

Something witty hovered at the front of her mind, but the mood was mellowed between the them. The argument they had had so vocally only that morning seemed a lifetime ago, and the atmosphere now held a sort of melancholy sweetness. “Of course not,” She said, stepping up to where she was next to him, “I considered making one for myself.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, taking a sip of the liquor. From the look, it was something with vodka. Citrus, carbonated. Not something she would have chosen.

“Why don’t I make you something?” He asked, and turned, without waiting for answer, back to the bar. She watched as he selected bottles, moving with easy grace between the small refrigerator underneath the bar and the wall of liquor in the back. She slid onto one of the stools, watching him work, index finger and thumb pressed against the top tip of the bottle as he spun different types of syrups into spiraling colors down a long rimmed glass.

“And what are you making me, Obi-Wan?”

He smiled faintly as she used his name; whether it was conscious or not, Satine wasn’t sure and so she did her best not to think of it.

“Corellian Iced Tea,” He said, “I remember you never did care for bubbles.”

“I had hardly tasted alcohol the last time I saw you,” She countered, remembering their shared laughter as they had tasted and promptly spit out mouthfuls of wine from the party that had been held in honor of their return to the capital city. All around them had been the hustle and bustle of the Mandalorian elite, trying to endear themselves to whoever had managed to survive the attempted coup with a little bit of money. Despite it being the eve of Satine’s coronation as Duchess, they had slipped away with relative ease to a balcony overlooking the back gardens.

She remembered the night perfectly well, but not the party and the lights but the shine of the floating light on the deep red of his hair. The shape of his face, leaner than it had been when they met and fully clean-shaven for the first time in months. The sound of his laughter as they discarded the rest of the wine into the nearest bush and instead collected champagne. He had taken a liking to the champagne; hers had joined the wine in the bush.

“Some moments are easily remembered,” She said back softly, topping off his creation with a clinking handful of ice cubes and long-stemmed straw that pierced all the way through to the bottom of the cup.

“So they are,” She said, and he caught her gaze as he took another sip from his own drink, the ice now almost completely gone. They were thinking of the same moment, she was sure. Their joint admission of feelings that were so far beyond the realm of what could be acted on that it was almost laughable if it did not hurt quite so acutely. She took a deep sip of the drink, the ice just starting to impart cold into the glass against her fingers. “This is delicious.”

He smiled disarmingly, showing the slightest hint of his teeth. “Practice makes perfect.”

“You’re a fan of Correlian Iced Tea, then?”

“Not quite,” Obi-Wan said, “It’s a crowd pleaser. A good drink can go a long way in negotiations.”

“I’m learning the secrets of the Republic’s great negotiator,” She said, feeling the warmth from the drink start to spiral through her. It was so sweet she hadn’t even noticed the taste of the liquor underneath. But she could feel it now.

“Not as secret as they might have you believe,” He responded, and set his drink down on the bar. He looked on the verge of saying something, but seemed to think better of it. So she spoke instead.

“I should not have said what I did earlier, Obi-Wan.”

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not that. He didn’t speak for a long moment, and instead let out a long sigh.

“I wasn’t planning on holding you to your words, Sat—”

“I meant what I said,” She cut him off, “I only meant that perhaps I should not have said it. It introduces an unnecessary complication.”

“Does it?” He laughed softly at that and she found herself smiling. Now it was her doing unexpected things, as she always seemed to do when he was involved. “I have to disagree with you there.”

She considered his sentiment, and realized that he was correct. Feelings or not, things would not change between them. He was a Jedi, bound the war now; she was a Duchess, bound to her people. For them to act on any feelings would not have only taken the acknowledgement of them, but for the timing to align properly. They would have to be two people who felt free to make choices for themselves. Not two people bound far more to duty than they could ever be to each other.

“You have a point,” She said and he raised his eyebrows for moment, looking away from her eyes again. She took another long drag of the drink, letting it swirl through her chest and warm her all the way to her fingers. She closed her eyes for a second longer than normal on her next blink, thinking of a touch almost forgotten. About how easy it might be to reach and touch him now.

But did she want to do that? If she were to reach out and touch him, it would likely be the last time. It would be a summation of all of those times all those years ago, of the lingering feeling of what was little more than ghost. If she didn’t, then things would be much the same. If she didn’t, then it would have been the same as if any Jedi had been sent on this mission, as if she had never spoken the truth to him and him back to her.

“You know,” She said slowly, lowering the straw back to her glass. If he rejected her thought, she might finish it. If he didn’t, she wanted a clear mind for a night spent with him. “It will be a few hours before the rest of the crew is awake. We could…take advantage.”

He looked at her again, his eyes holding her gaze evenly. She wondered what he was thinking about. Their first time together, rushed and hurried and wonderful? Or the times after that, full of learning and uncertainty and as much patience as they could mutually muster at the time? Or their last time, when even she had been uncertain whether she would ask him to stay with her, when everything had felt like goodbye? Or perhaps this time, not yet existing.

“If that’s an invitation, Satine,” He set his glass on the bar, pushing it with two fingers down towards the sink. “Then I accept.”

“One night,” She said, and he took their drinks, setting them in the basin.

“One night.” He agreed, and she reached for him—for the first time, for the last time. And he took her hand, letting her lead them towards her quarters, the weight of everything and nothing resting between them.


End file.
